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but seemed engrossed in another morning TV news show. The kitchen had a warm tasty aroma and I knew that Arlene had made herself breakfast but she had obviously already done the dishes, as the kitchen was spotless. I poured myself a cup of coffee and drank it greedily, trying to dull my throbbing headache. I would have loved a couple of aspirins but even I wasn’t crazy enough to ask Arlene if she had any.
    There was a soft knock on the door and Paul came in all smiles, as he had the day before. I downed the coffee and gratefully, he whisked me out of there after only the minimum of pleasantries between Arlene and him.
    Paul then spent the day instructing me on the intricacies of typing contracts and wills and agreements. I was so exhausted and hung over that I couldn’t concentrate and keep making the same mistakes over and over again but Paul was patient and we finally made it through the day. He offered to take me out to dinner but I told him that I felt like I was coming down with a cold and that I probably should just go back to Arlene’s and rest. He agreed.
    I told Arlene the same story and went up to my room and without even bothering to remove my clothes, I fell exhausted onto the bed. I slept straight through until Paul came to pick me up the following morning. Worried that I might be sick, he suggested that I stay home from work but I couldn’t face a day with Arlene and after thirteen hours of sleep, I actually felt pretty good.
    Instead, I quickly showered and dressed and we went to work. I was much better and by the end of the day, even though I wasn’t exactly sure about all of the legal terms, I felt like I could actually do the job.
    We went out for a quiet, lovely dinner that night and Paul was a perfect gentleman and brought me home early. Arlene was still giving me the silent treatment but I was in love with Paul and so happy that I didn’t even mind. I felt the urge to go out and, as crazy as it seemed, to be with some other guy so I could fantasize that I was making love to Paul. But the horror of that previous Sunday night reminded me that I never wanted to do anything like that again. I hoped that I would always feel that way. Instead I took a long luxurious bath and went to bed hoping that I would dream of Paul.
    I was ready and waiting on the front porch swing when Paul drove up. At work, I was actually beginning to enjoy the job and Paul’s numerous red corrections of my typos were dwindling to one or two.
    “I can’t believe how quickly you’ve picked this up,” he said. “You could be a great a legal secretary, if you wanted.” He gave me a smile. “Provided you don’t find something better to do with your life.”
    Then he grabbed my arm and led me to the front door.
    “What are we doing?” I asked.
    Paul put a “Closed” sign on the door and we walked outside. “The beauty of a small town practice,” he said, “is that everything can wait until tomorrow. Let’s got for swim.”
    When I protested that I didn’t have a swimsuit, Paul drove me to a nearby shop and bought me one. Then we headed for the lake, passing by a practice field where several young boys were kicking around a soccer ball. When a carrot-haired boy scored a goal, Paul stopped and cried out, “Nice one, Jim. You’re looking good, Guys.”
    The boys beamed. “Thanks, Coach,” said Jim. “We’ve got to beat Franklin this year.”
    “Keep working,” Paul encouraged them. “We will.”
    As we drove away, Paul told me, “Our middle school couldn’t afford a coach, so I offered. I can’t wait until the day when I am a soccer dad.” He glanced at me. “That reminds me of our challenge.”
    When we arrived at the beach, Paul grabbed a soccer ball from his trunk and soon we were racing across the sand. When I tried to dribble past him, he intercepted the ball. So I charged him and stole it back. As he was about to intercept it again, I kicked it between Paul’s legs and dashed around him. That really